


Reach into the Dark

by Laylah



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist
Genre: Addiction, Antagonism, Dehumanization, Hate Sex, M/M, Red Stone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-07-14
Updated: 2007-07-14
Packaged: 2017-10-21 09:37:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/223746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laylah/pseuds/Laylah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I don’t,” Kimberly says carefully, “<i>need</i> anything.” It’s not a very good lie, but Greed doesn’t call him on it, maybe waiting to see where he’s going with this. “But there’s something about you.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reach into the Dark

He couldn’t say what it is about Greed, really. Sure, the monster’s got some good tricks, but Kimberly’s been around for a while, and he likes to think he’s not impressed by just anything.

Still, there’s something about the homunculus that sets his teeth on edge, makes the hairs raise on the back of his neck, makes his palms itch. Greed makes him _want_ something, bad enough he can almost taste it, sharp and metallic at the back of his throat. Nothing he drinks manages to wash that taste out of his mouth.

It can’t be natural, he decides. It has to be something Greed’s _doing_ to him. Probably on purpose, the selfish egotistical fuck.

The bar closes up for the night and the freaks disappear to wherever it is they go to lair, and the last of Greed’s whores gets sent home tipsy and exhausted from trying to keep up with the bastard. Kimberly’s still awake. He doesn’t sleep much, especially since prison. His body’s had enough of lying still.

Kimberly puts his empty whiskey glass down with an audible thunk and looks up at Greed. The monster smiles at him with all those sharp teeth, studying him over the tops of its sunglasses.

“You want something?” Greed asks, the inflection too subtle for Kimberly to make out quite how he’s being mocked: whether it’s _**you** want something_ , or _you **want** something_.

“What, you thought you had the market cornered?” Kimberly slides off his barstool, his steps slow and steady, careful to walk a straight line as he crosses the room to the couch Greed’s lounging on. He’s drunk and he fucking knows it, picturing little ethanol molecules careening off the walls of his veins, looking for someplace to make trouble.

“Maybe.” Greed watches him, cool and almost believable in its disinterestedness. “You never seem to need anything — you’ll have to forgive me for being a little surprised.”

“I don’t,” Kimberly says carefully, “ _need_ anything.” It’s not a very good lie, but Greed doesn’t call him on it, maybe waiting to see where he’s going with this. “But there’s something about you.”

Greed smiles. It looks like an animal challenging for dominance. “And you want to know what it is?”

Kimberly narrows his eyes. “I want to know how to destroy it.”

“You’re welcome to try,” Greed purrs. “Come here, gorgeous.”

“Fuck you,” Kimberly says. “Fuck you and fuck your arrogance.” But his body’s not really listening to him as he drops onto the couch beside the monster, too close, well inside arm’s reach.

“Never thought you’d ask that nicely,” Greed says, taking off its sunglasses and setting them aside. Its eyes are far creepier than Kimberly wants to admit, and a shiver runs down his spine.

Greed reaches for him, and he almost tells it to stop, almost backs away, but he still can’t quell that hunger, that ache in the pit of his stomach. When Greed’s hand slides around the back of his neck, large and warm and possessive, and the monster kisses him, he shivers. The kiss tastes like Greed’s martini, and its teeth are sharp against his lips and tongue. For a second, fear makes him cautious, and then the alcohol takes over, makes him kiss back hard. His hands come up before he’s even really thought about it, pressed flat against Greed’s not-skin and reaching for the materials he’d need –

But he doesn’t think the homunculus would _stay_ dead, not after it provoked one of the chimeras into beheading it the other day, and then got up to have another drink. He wouldn’t manage to kill it, not for real, and he doesn’t think he wants to make it angry with him.

Still, it’s so fucking tempting, he thinks as it kisses him, as its hands go to work on his clothes. It’s easier than it should be, to shift Greed’s molecules around, to change the bonds among the elements. They’re so plastic, so malleable, going where he pushes them — and then sliding back into normal alignment when the monster’s hand cups his cock through his trousers and squeezes, and destroys his concentration.

“Fuck,” Kimberly moans, and his hips rock without him giving them permission.

“Yeah,” Greed says, unbuttoning Kimberly’s trousers, “let’s.” It nips at Kimberly’s throat, too gentle to draw blood. “You’re trying to hurt me, aren’t you?”

“No,” Kimberly lies. “I still don’t know why you, fuck –” Greed strokes his cock, sure and slow, its hand smoother than he expected — “why you make me feel like this.”

Greed laughs. “You wouldn’t be an alchemist if you weren’t trying to take me apart and see what made me tick, Kimberly.”

It never calls him by name.

“I don’t _try_ to hurt people,” Kimberly retorts, when he’s recovered his balance. “When I hurt you, you’ll fucking know.”

“I look forward to it,” Greed says, squirming easily out of its clothes, smirking. Alcohol doesn’t affect it, Kimberly realizes. It’s been drinking all night, but it’s much more sober than he is.

It pushes him back against the couch, crawling up to straddle his lap, and puts his hands back on its skin. “What does it feel like?”

“I’m trying to figure that _out_ ,” Kimberly says, pushing against Greed’s chest, his fingers digging into its flesh. It feels almost human, so goddamn close, but he can feel the difference nagging at him, just at the edge of his perception.

“Keep trying,” Greed says with a smile that’s far too confident, far too predatory, as it reaches down to brace his cock, to hold him steady as it rocks against him.

It slides down on his cock smoothly, hissing, its eyes half-lidded with animal pleasure. Kimberly can’t tell if he’s more fascinated or revolted; he’s fucked people dry before, and he knows how much Greed ought to be hurting.

“Does it not hurt?” he asks, leaning in closer, his hands sliding around to Greed’s back. “Or are you just that perverse?”

“This isn’t perverse,” Greed murmurs, licking his ear. It rocks its hips, taking his cock deeper. “Perverse is my brother getting his whole hand up my ass, and then extending his claws.”

Something sharp twists in Kimberly’s gut, and his hands tighten as he pictures Greed’s unnatural flesh torn and bloodied, pictures the monster writhing and moaning in agony. “You can’t have a brother,” he grinds out, teeth clenched against the pleasure. “You weren’t born.”

“Ah, that’s not polite,” Greed says, fucking itself slow and steady, its fingers drawing lazy circles on the back of Kimberly’s neck. “Calling attention to a person’s shortcomings like that.” It fastens its lips below his jaw, sucks on the pulse point there until he can’t help but moan. “You don’t see me giving you shit about being completely fucking insane.”

“Shut up,” Kimberly says, rocking his hips, trying to make Greed move faster. “Shut up and move, you bastard.” It feels good, better than it has any right to, and he bites down on Greed’s collarbone to try to keep himself from moaning.

Greed has no such restraint — it makes shameless, hungry noises as he bites, as he thrusts harder. Its back arches and it moans, curses, gasps, not even touching its cock but trembling with need all the same, and as Kimberly gets closer the sharpness, the hunger that Greed makes him feel gets clearer, brighter — and he can _see_ it behind his eyes now, it has a color and the color is crimson, scarlet, red like blood like power like the fucking stone they gave him in Ishvar and he sobs with relief at knowing what it is at feeling that rush again at the force of the orgasm that wrings him out and makes him thrash under the demanding weight of Greed’s body — and power surges out of him oh god as Greed moans and convulses around his cock and behind the bar the liquor bottles _shatter_ , every last fucking one of them, all at once.

The silence that follows, while they stare at each other, is bright and sharp as the broken glass on the floor.

“I didn’t know you could do that at a distance,” Greed says at last. It sounds fascinated, hungry, already plotting how to use his skills.

“I can’t,” Kimberly admits, “not without the red….” He trails off, as the implications of that explosion set in — as he realizes just what that nagging hunger Greed inspires in him really _is_. “You….” He traces Greed’s skin, intoxication evaporating as he feels the traces of red stone in the monster’s body. “There’s red stone _inside_ you?”

Something about the tone in his voice gives too much away: makes Greed wary, makes it reach up and wrap its claws around his wrists before it asks, “You’ve run into it before?”

“In Ishvar,” Kimberly says, as Greed pries his hands off its skin. His voice is hoarse, needy, and he keeps reaching, helplessly, even as Greed pulls away. “The last night of the war.”

By the time it lets go of him and steps back, it’s recovered its composure. Alchemical light crawls over its skin as it raises its shield, makes itself as decent as it gets. “So there’s something you want after all,” it says. Kimberly’s never heard it sound so satisfied.

He can’t answer, the words dying on his lips, the hunger coming on him with the shakes, the chills he remembers from his first week in prison. _Want_ is such an inadequate word.

Greed smiles, and doesn’t bother to dress. “Good night, Kimberly,” it says as it walks away.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [What Reaches Back](https://archiveofourown.org/works/224584) by [Laylah](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laylah/pseuds/Laylah)




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